“Near the canal. Same workers’ cottage I grew up in with Ma. When she died, they let me stay. It’s too small and too damp for a family.”

“Do you like working at the Press?” I asked.

Gareth leaned against the iron railing. “It’s all I know. It’s not really a matter of liking.”

“Do you ever imagine a different life?”

He looked at me, cocked his head a little. “You don’t ask the usual questions, do you?”

I didn’t know what to say.

“The usual questions are usually very uninteresting,” he continued. “I sometimes imagine travelling, to France or Germany. I’ve learned to read both languages.”

“Only read?”

“That’s all that’s required for my job. I’ve been learning since I was an apprentice. It’s Hart’s doing. He set up the Clarendon Institute to educate his ignorant workforce. And to give the band a place to practise.”

“There’s a band?”

“Of course. And a choir.”

When we started walking again there was less distance between us, but we fell silent as we turned onto Observatory Street. I was wondering if Gareth would ask me to walk out with him again. I was hoping he was thinking of it and wondering if I’d say yes. As we came to the house, I noticed Da in the sitting room. He was facing the window as he had earlier in the evening. He opened the door before I had a chance to knock. Gareth and I could only say goodnight.

Tilda stayed in Oxford.

“I’m bunking in with a friend,” she told me. “She has a narrowboat on the Castle Mill Stream. I can see the belltower of St. Barnabas through the window beside my bed.”

“Is it comfortable?”

“Comfortable enough. And warm. She lives there with her sister, so it can be a bit tight. We have to take it in turns to dress.” She smiled wide.

I wrote my address on a slip and gave it to her. “Just in case,” I said.

Winter passed into spring. When I asked why Tilda was still in Oxford, she said she was gathering members for the WSPU. When I pressed her, she changed the subject.

“I thought I’d see more of you while I was here,” she said one afternoon as we walked along the towpath of the Castle Mill Stream, “but you seem to spend all your free time with Gareth.”

“That’s not true. We only have lunch together in Jericho now and then. And he’s taken me to the theatre a few times.”

“You did always love the theatre,” Tilda said. “Oh, Esme, you blush like a schoolgirl.” She took my arm in hers. “I bet you’re still a virgin.”